


Tongue Tied

by MercuryMapleKey



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 10:31:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryMapleKey/pseuds/MercuryMapleKey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So he had been silencing his vocaliser. That was interesting. Perhaps it was merely in compensation for his running pedes which would not be silenced, but Shockwave was not one to quickly dismiss it as such."</p><p>Blurr has a few bad sleeping habits; one of which has the potential to prove useful to any decepticon spies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tongue Tied

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I know sleeptalk fics are like... kind of cliched, but this is what happens when I come up with sleeping headcanons at night.
> 
> And anyways, they're always really cute. 
> 
> So just play along and enjoy it.

Blurr was a talker.

Most bots found this particular habit trying. They were either unable to keep up with his rapid train of thought, catching only bits and pieces along the way, or simply unable to understand as one word sped into the next. He had a particular way of enunciation as well which only served to compound the problem. There was every reason to find the intel-bot annoying; from his strict, self-assured attitude, to his long speedy speeches, to the way he could never seem to just stand still. Instead Shockwave found him intriguing. To him the racer was a paradigm of conflict. His very line of work forced him to sit still and hold his glossa; to search for the harsh truth when his programming insisted he believe in the propaganda the Autobots spewed. And he was clever with it, so clever, never letting a fact slip through though his words were moving as fast as he was. Blurr was the source of many conflicting interests, and not all the bots own.

It was only logical they’d end up in bed together. Blurr was intelligent, tenacious, and loyal. Shockwave had been stranded in enemy territory for more than a vorn and was so very bored. It was inevitability once or twice, and a decidedly welcome endeavor. They were drawn to each other in a sense. However once or twice became occasionally, and occasionally became often, and soon Shockwave was spending every night he could with the talkative blue bot. It was a dangerous move both to his status as Prime and his mission to Megatron. Nothing was to be gained from his relationship with Blurr but for his own self-satisfaction and the agent’s blind eye towards his true intentions. So call him indulgent. There was however an unanticipated issue with regards to spending the night with the speedster, another habit heretofore unannounced and effortlessly more annoying than the others. Blurr could not for the life of him manage to stay still while in recharge; every night without fail he would kick and thrash about incessantly. Suddenly it was no longer difficult to fathom the simple fact that he had never previously shared a berth. The racer was aware of the issue at least, apologizing sheepishly the next orn. It seemed it was an unfortunate side effect of his prototype speed matrix – one that explained the little bots twitchiness as well – his programming would not allow him to remain motionless for any lengthy duration of time. Without movement to expel excess charged energy the speed matrix ran the risk of short circuit due to forced overload. A rather unique problem with interesting implications in a more experimental setting, but the reality of the situation was a restless recharge due to a squirming berthmate.

They hadn’t found a truly effective method to combat the programming. Arguably the best idea Blurr had proposed had been to exhaust the speed matrix in effort to reduce the risk of a forced overload. This was achieved mainly by fragging him into the nearest surface as many times a solar cycle as possible. Again, not an unwelcome endeavor, but ultimately an ineffective one. They’d long since moved on to alternative tactics, but the frequency of their interfacing did not diminish. There were almost a thousand reasons it was the rational progression to make and only about five hundred reasons it wasn’t.

Such was the night when Shockwave learned of another particularly interesting habit of the agent’s; one that divulged sensitive information no less. They had just concluded their more ardent endeavors; Blurr was coming down from that energy high he seemed to get in the throes of passion and Shockwave was committing every instance of it to his memory banks. Blurr was beautiful on the berth with a writhing insatiable thirst that consumed him until the very end; he couldn’t have asked for a more perfectly entertaining plaything. Looping an extendable arm around Blurr’s sleek chassis he brought the blue bot to rest against his artificial body. False blue optics met real ones and Blurr offered no resistance sighing into the bulky frame beneath him. Of course Longarm was a cuddler. It wasn’t an attribute that had immediately leapt to the forefront of Shockwave’s processor until confronted with the option, but it was too true to the persona he had created to pass up. As an added bonus to the strangely petty fraction of his processor it was also a habit that spurred annoyance in the racer; apparently constriction was only fair game in the name of interfacing. Personally Shockwave had always found the particular form of intimacy rather pleasant. This was the moment things were truly still; it did not last long.

Soon Blurr would wriggle out of his arms to kick and writhe in recharge on the berth and Shockwave would wistfully desire for the bot to call for him by his true name, just once, before discarding the idea as absurd and offlining his own optics. It was clockwork, which was also true to Longarm’s persona. However the clock appeared to be chiming this time.

He nearly didn’t hear it as his systems began to log off. The soft whine from beside him was hardly unusual to a lagging processor, but then the whine turned into a mumble and Shockwave’s CPU dutifully recalled the fact that Blurr was always quiet during recharge. So he had been silencing his vocaliser. That was interesting. Perhaps it was merely in compensation for his running pedes which would not be silenced, but Shockwave was not one to quickly dismiss it as such. This discovery had to be properly explored; and he knew Blurr had as much difficulty controlling his vocaliser as he did his pedes.

Noislessly the spy rebooted his offline systems. The first task in his order of operations would be to determine if Blurr could achieve coherency in his unconscious mutterings, the racer did not rise from recharge easily under typical circumstances. However this was an atypical situation. He elected to proceed with caution so as to not awaken the slender bot. Shockwave waited. Less than a cycle passed before Blurr was kicking again, curling away from him sharply and striking out with a pede. He was talking once more and this time the murmur of ‘go away, you’re a nuisance to everyone around you’ was as clear as glass. Shockwave could have smirked, Blurr had yet to disappoint.

The next step would be to test his receptiveness. The likelihood of Blurr’s dreamspeak disclosing restricted files was miniscule; it could not even be presently concluded that the agent would be responsive to his prompts. In a universe with unlimited time he would set in slowly, working to rewrite Blurr’s defense protocols and remove firewalls while the bot lay in recharge; gradually edging the boundaries inward until Blurr was all but singing in his sleep. As it was however, Shockwave had only a few short megacycles. The racer was sure to notice his vocaliser had not been muted and equally certain not to repeat the mistake.  He had to work with what he could.

With a servo steadying on the agent’s forearm Shockwave softly called out to the bot.

“Blurr?”

A squirm and a murmur was all he received in reply. Patiently Shockwave tried again, and this time Blurr was quick to supply the desired results. He rolled over, still kicking sporadically, and clenched a servo.

“…Longarm?”

So he could recognize him. That was pleasing.

“Longarm tell him to get lost! Nobody wants him around here, he smells like carburetor fluid.” Blurr seemed quite adamant, emphasizing his absurd thought with a sharp kick. Recharge made a mess of the processor; organizing, encoding, and backing data. The content deemed unserviceable was compacted into a jumble of useless jargon and deleted, and it was the gathering and extracting of these random bits of data that produced most dreams. The mess was hardly an idyllic state for scouting out information, but also the least conspicuous. If Blurr could recognize him, he’d likely be receptive to suggestion as well.

“Agent Blurr, I believe you have a report for me?”

As anticipated, Blurr easily slipped back into protocol, saluting quickly. “The advancement of Team Chaar in the Alpha sector of Magnokor; they seem to be heading towards the space bridge situated in the asteroid belt – I already _told_ you, sir! I knew you weren’t listening, I just knew it.” He went on to mumble a few disgruntled incoherencies before accentuating his displeasure with a light smack to Longarm’s chassis. He wasn’t incorrect; Shockwave hadn’t been listening. He had long been made aware of Team Chaar’s movements. Such inconstancies in behaviour would have to be rectified. These were the moments the spy suspected he was becoming far too complacent in his role. Still, Blurr was readily giving accurate information and that was encouraging. He altered his tactics.

“Isn’t there something you needed to tell me Blurr? Something important?” Prompts were kept vague, both for the sake of productivity and security. It would do no good to lose precious information in the event the agent had trigger words installed. Shockwave would have been more surprised if that wasn’t the case; Blurr had more than a touch of paranoia in his programming. Smart bot. He was spinning his pedes rapidly and the whirr of machinery was the only sound for a long moment. The reply was strained.

“No. No I can’t tell him. Don’t tell him anything! You can’t tell him, that’s absurd, it doesn’t work that way.” It was a discomforting reply highlighted with words he couldn’t quite make out. The speedster was clearly agitated. Wherever the bots CPU had taken him was clearly out of the halls of the metroplex.

Shockwave shifted a leg out of range of the flailing bot beside him. “What can’t you tell me?” His tone was placating and supportive.

Blurr scoffed. “Not you; Longarm! Don’t tell Longarm, I mean it.” He found Longarm’s leg again, unconsciously showering it with needle-like kicks. “You have to promise not to tell.”

Reaching a servo down to still the other’s leg, Shockwave mused over the newest development. Admittedly he had not done extensive research on somniloquy and wasn’t acutely aware how long he’d have before the bot’s speech was reduced to complete gibberish. Efficiency was rapidly taking precedence over anonymity; what couldn’t Longarm know?

“You can tell me.”

Blurr whined a long no. Shockwave was insistent.

“Just say it.”

That seemed to do the trick. The racer flipped around on the berth all but climbing on Longarm’s chassis, his optics stuttered for a moment and his legs were stiller than they’d been all night.

“Alright, but it’s not fair I’ll have you know. It’s not because everything is so busy and it was never supposed to go this far, but I’m in love with you Longarm Prime.” A pause. “Don’t tell him; he doesn’t need to know.”

There were a dozen things the spy suspected Blurr might be keeping under so many firewalls. A confession was not among them. The speedster went on to highlight exactly why he felt Longarm did not require knowing how far their relationship went in broken muttered words, but it went largely unheard. This was not important; and while Blurr’s compounded problem was intriguing it was not conductive to his overall goal. Taking a moment to collect himself the spy moved on.

In the end the experiment garnered little more success than he had anticipated. Blurr was easy enough to manipulate, but reluctant to disclose anything definitive. He was never misleading, just vague revealing so little in so many words in a way only he could manage. At one point he had even considered requesting the compliant bot call him by his real name, just to hear it. The idea was quickly dropped. Although acquiescent Blurr did not let the experiment run long; there came a time when he refused to answer any more questions no matter how they were proposed. By then Shockwave had already gathered a satisfactory amount of data. Nothing gained was of severe importance; an entry point to a network of tunnels hidden underneath Cybertron, a couple ten-digit codes with nothing to put them to, and undisclosed information on the racer’s own speed matrix. A good portion of the information could be put to use under the right circumstances; the codes would need further investigation.

As a final act of security, Shockwave designated his own failsafe on the data, all trust would be lost from the blue bot if he unintentionally let any evidence slip. He wouldn’t lose all he had worked for. Beside him the bot twisted again cycling his legs and venting contentedly; he was still talking, but long past the point of reception. Blurr would recall none of these events; this was the beauty of somniloquy.

The bot shifted and whined, muttering quick and soft into the other’s shoulderplate. “…love you Longarm.”

Longarm stretched a servo over the speedster’s chassis.

“I know.”

Blurr was embarrassed more than he was concerned upon discovery of his unmuted vocaliser, try as he might to hide it. He had always been poor at masking his emotions; though not so poor as Shockwave had initially anticipated, it seemed. As predicted the bot was entirely unaware of the conversations he had held. It brought a forward sense of naiveté to Shockwave’s impression of him. The event left a mark in the spy’s CPU, insisting he conduct the experiment again. Consistent attempts were made to prevent the bot from silencing himself, all met failure. 

Within time the single point of conversation Shockwave had not immediately committed to his data banks returned, with all the anxiety and agitation it had originally caused the agent.

He had caught Longarm alone in the storage banks of the Metroplex. As usual, he wasted no time.

“Longarm! I wasn’t sure you’d be up here but I was hoping you were; I know you don’t like to be bothered in the middle of work and I apologize for that, but I felt this couldn’t wait. Or, rather it could wait, but then we’d run the risk of it not being said at all.” Blurr waited whatever amount of time he deemed appropriate for approval before darting forward and clasping one of Longarm’s servos in his own. His expression was far too serious for his actions.

Hesitantly Longarm replied. “Go on.”

The agent blanched. He flickered his optics a few times before turning and tapping a pede restlessly on the floor; clearly unsure of where to put himself. Shockwave was beginning to believe he did not want to hear what the elite had to say. He urged him on.

“First of all you should know that this isn’t a business matter, rather a personal one that I feel is just as important, if not more – and I really do think you’d agree, sir.” He forcibly stopped his pacing and forged on. “I think you need to hear, that is, I need to tell you… something…” Another attempt. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, for some time now actually, but I didn’t think it was appropriate given our professional situation; although I suppose that doesn’t actually matter at this point as we’ve already broken protocol, which I might add was your doing. That’s not important. What I’m trying to say—or what I want to say is…”

“Just say it.”

That seemed to do the trick. Before even a nanoklik had passed he was blurting his long held confession out to his superior. It was nothing short of unnerving how easily Shockwave found himself reaching out to the other, reciprocating the emotion. An overwhelming sense of peace accompanied the act.

His efforts to conceal himself in Autobot society had succeeded well beyond what had been projected. Soon, the Decepticons would be in the final throes of their spacebridge coup and here within the capitol he was compromising his own mission.

Blurr had to leave.


End file.
